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July 21, 2006

How I learned not to care what people think

People who meet me, particularly if they have read my blog before meeting me, and even people who know me, ask me how I can act, write, speak, etc. the way I do.  It dawned on me today how I learned to do it.

My dad is a character.  I remember one night he drove me and about 6 of my friends to Dairy Queen (or DQ as me and my suburban really expenisve home-ies used to call it).  The 8 of us all sat comfortably in the 4 door black Lincoln Town Car we had at that point (cornered like the Titanic, but way safer).

After getting our goods, we jumped in the car and some popular song came on the radio at that poing (I really wish I remember what it was, but I don't).  My dad rolled down the windows...BLASTED the stereo and proceeded to drive into a parking lot where several groups of REAL homies were hanging.  We cruised by them bouncing to the tune. 

Can you picture this?  One middle aged white dude rollin' a pimp blushing Lincoln with 7 10 year olds knockin' back Peanut Buster Parfaits, cones, etc. (no blizzards, they hadn't come out yet) bumpin' to some Kenny Rogers or Christopher Cross or some such music....

Often I would ask my dad..."DAAAA-hh-AAAAD, why are you doing this, you're going to embarrass us?"  He would stop whatever he was doing and say with a dead serious look on his face..."Do you really think I care what these people think about me?"

He didn't say it with a rebelliousness.  My dad is demonstratively affectionate and loving towards me, all his family and everyone else he meets.  He did it because he was and still is a kid.

That had a tremendous impact on me.  I am told, quite frequently today, I'm a freak or a goofball or, in some weird cases, obviously on "ex"....I have an ex but don't do ex. 

So, you are duly informed.  Going out with me (particularly to DQ or maybe in-n-out, etc.) includes hangin' with someone who doesn't care what people think AND cares about you deeply.

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